


Restoration

by PoeticAnt44



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: After Alduin, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Post-Skyrim Civil War, References to Depression, Skyrim Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticAnt44/pseuds/PoeticAnt44
Summary: 23 years has passed since the end of Alduin and 10 years since the Civil War.  The Dragonborn is in the throws of depression, blaming herself for Ulfric's handling of the elven and beast races, causing a new war to begin.  She and her husband Vilkas live in seclusion determined to live a normal life, unable to give anymore of themselves to the people of Skyrim.  Vilkas struggles to help his wife with her pain and self-blame for the outcome of Skyrim after the war.  Eventually, he reaches her and together they help her overcome her pain.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my current mood. It's just a one-shot story and something I just wanted to get off my chest. It's a struggle sometimes for me, as I'm sure most people in the U.S. with what is going on and not having someone to talk to about it, I write. It's a bit depressing, sorry about that, but it gets better at the end. I wrote this relatively quick, so if there are errors, sorry about that too. And of course, I had to write about my favorite Skyrim husband.

The Winter had been as long as her moodiness. She looked at her reflection in the looking glass, a sigh of resignation seeing the grays threaded in her dark brown hair. The signs of crows feet surrounding her gray-blue eyes. Danya felt the first signs of mortality in the recent months, though she still had a long way to go before old age took her being only forty-six Summers. Her youth had been fraught with danger and now she was more afraid of time than any dragon or war.

It wasn’t just age that was plaguing her thoughts, but the feelings of uselessness. She was the Dragonborn, but she was no longer wanted nor needed, though that was, in part, her doing. Alduin was twenty-three years gone, but life wasn’t peaceful nor happy. Danya often wondered why she bothered killing Alduin, what purpose did it serve if Skyrim wasn’t happy and prosperous? Perhaps it would have been better to let the great black dragon consume them all. Maybe Alduin’s purpose wasn’t an evil one, but one of renewal.

Splashing water on her face to wake up and get ready for a day of farming, she dried her face and looked at her prone husband still sleeping. His own black hair and mass of waves tangled with even more gray than she had, but it looked better on him. He looked distinguished, always handsome, even in sleep, mouth open, snoring. During happier times, she would have smiled watching him, kiss his sleeping lips, claiming his snores could wake up the dead. Times have changed and now all she saw was a reminder of what was. 

She could have woken him up, but she needed some time alone, not wanting to talk. Vilkas always wanted to talk, sometimes to pry into her thoughts while others for the simple task of just hearing his own voice as the two barely spoke any longer. It wasn’t his fault. Danya wanted to talk to him, connect, but she struggled with a strange sense of emptiness. Despite her best efforts, she just withdrew into herself as her depression grew, not even remembering the last time they made love. Perhaps it was before Luicia left for the College of Winterhold over two years ago. He never complained. It didn’t help that their children were gone, starting lives of their own.

Danya and Vilkas were tucked far away from the chaos of Skyrim, far East in the Rift, which had been in a perpetual Civil War. Ulfric had become High KIng with her help ten years past, thinking he would have been the stronger one compared to Elisef. How wrong she was. Ulfric was a narcissistic monster and every day she regretted her decision to help him. Danya knew he was racist, but to attempt genocide against the other races proved too much for her. She fought for as long as she could against him, narrowly being killed by Ulfric’s assassins, but in the end all her efforts were in vain. No matter what she did or how strong she was, she couldn’t stop an army by herself. There were resistance cells, but they couldn’t stop it either. So she and Vilkas withdrew from the world to live a simple life away from the violence once and for all.

Periodically there would be those requesting the help of the Dragonborn, but she did her duty, a failure for the most part other than killing Alduin, or at least that was how it felt. She or Vilkas, who ever answered the door, shooed them away, no longer willing to help. In the beginning, Danya would feel guilty, feeling obligated to help, but when she did, they were never grateful anyway. She was used for her powers, no one really caring what she had to go through to keep Skyrim safe. In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore.

Each morning she got ready for work as a farmer, she struggled to keep from weeping, some mornings more successful than others. It wasn’t until she was deep in work, distracted, that she could reel in her emotions and focus on the task at hand until evening reached and she was forced into her thoughts once more. So she would go to bed early just so she wouldn’t have to face her growing depression. Deep down Danya knew she should talk to Vilkas about all of this. She knew he wanted to, but she didn’t want to bring him down with her despite knowing her lack of communication was doing just that.

As she sat on the bed, putting on her boots, she felt a hand rub against her back as Vilkas stirred awake. Despite their bond being severed when they were healed years ago from lycanthropy, he could still feel her pain. He knew something had been bothering her for a while, but she kept shutting him out, not knowing what to do about it. All his attempts at reaching were rebuked.

“Why don’t we go somewhere, Dani? Perhaps the hot springs...get away for a while,” Vilkas offered, though he knew she wouldn’t go.

“We have work to do,” she said, standing to head out to work.

“Dani…”

But she ignored him, shutting their bedroom door behind her. 

She was pulling out the dead Winter weeds from the garden when Vilkas made his way outside finally to clean out the horse stalls. It was a boring life, especially compared to everything she went through as the Dragonborn and him as a Companion, the constant battles, fighting dragons, and anything else that threatened Skyrim. Now she pulled weeds and tended crops for a living, but the work distracted her, not wanting to face what was really bothering her, the gripping loneliness and feelings of uselessness despite having a husband who loved her, and in the midst of all that, a war ensued that was in part her doing.

The couple sat quietly at the table while they ate dinner that evening, tired from their chores. Vilkas looked at his wife, still beautiful after twenty years of marriage. Their lost connection pained him, seeing deep sadness in her eyes, wanting to fix whatever was going on with her. He missed making love to her, their long talks, laughter. 

Vilkas watched her pick up the dishes to wash them, not looking at him. He walked over to his usual chair by the fire in resignation and picked up the book he had been reading when he heard the crash of dishes on the floor. He rushed to see what had happened, seeing his wife lean on the old wooden counter weeping. Apparently she had thrown the dishes in her frustration and pain, unable to contain it any longer. 

“Dani, are you OK?” he asked, tentativeness in his voice, not wanting to upset her further, but concerned about her well-being.

“Leave me alone.”

Vilkas walked up behind her, resolute in his decision to help her, and rested his hands on her shoulder. Dani tried to shrug him off, instead, he pulled her into him as she wept, continuing to struggle out of his embrace. 

“Not this time, Dani. We are done pretending nothing is wrong as you grow worse.”

“Nothing is wrong! I just want to be left alone!” she shouted, her back still pressed up against him, though she was done struggling.

“Horker shit. We barely talk anymore, let alone look at each other. You become more withdrawn by the day.”

“I…”

But he didn’t let her finish, pressing his face against hers. “I am worried about you and I miss my wife. I let this go on for far too long, hoping you would come around, but it has only grown worse. We are done with this and are going to deal with it...together. I have been patient long enough.”

Vilkas turned his wife around to face him, her tears paining him. He grasped her face and wiped her tears away with calloused thumbs, relief that she didn’t pull away from him. 

“I promised you I would remain by your side no matter what when we married and I intend to keep that promise, no longer allowing you to suffer alone. I vowed to protect you.” 

“I don’t need protecting.”

“Not usually, but this time you do. Please tell me why you have been in so much pain, talk to me, Dani. I love you.”

Danya didn’t know why his words hurt so much. She wasn’t sure if it was relief to know he still loved her or that he was suffering right along with her as the tears continued to spill down her face, unable to look at her husband, finding the painting in the corner as her focal point of distraction. She felt the culmination of emotions about to explode out of her, but as usual, she choked it all back.

“Please, Dani. I can't stand to see you in pain any longer.”

“No, I don’t want you hurting too,” she insisted, but she wondered if that was the truth. The truth was it was hard to let go of the pain she had held close to her for so long. She was used to internalizing, then wondered if she was just being overly-dramatic, feeling stupid as she ran the reasons in her head.

“Seeing you suffer already hurts me and you know it,” Vilkas argued.

Danya finally looked up into his pale eyes, seeing the truth of his words, his pain evident on his face, which did nothing to ease hers.

“Talk to me,” he said again, kissing the top of her head.

Danya didn’t even know where to begin, part of her believing her strong emotions were absurd, that she had no right to feel this depressed. It didn’t help that most of her life, especially as the Dragonborn, her feelings and emotions were either ignored or she had to set them aside. Most people didn’t care how she felt as long as she saved the people. Whenever she did find someone to talk to, she was shut down. No one wanted to hear it, everyone so wrapped up in their own lives, no one other than Vilkas. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him in the first place. He always cared about how she felt, her feelings always mattered to him, no matter how small. Danya wondered when she forgot about that.

Vilkas led his weeping wife to the fire and sat her down on the pile of pillows she tossed there some years ago, sitting down next to her. He brushed some fallen hairs out of her face, sticking to the wetness of her tears and tucked thrm behind an ear. He hated to see her in so much pain, but the pleasure he felt that she allowed him to touch her…

“I’m not sure when it started. It could have been when our last child left, it could have been when I turned away the last person who requested my help. It’s most likely the war and disease rampaging through Skyrim and a lot of it was my fault…”

“Love, you can’t believe that…”

“Please let me finish, or I won’t be able to,” she said.

Vilkas nodded for her to go on as he gently played with her long tresses.

“That’s only part of it. It’s a culmination of things,” Danya explained. She described her feelings of uselessness, feeling like she was allowing the world to crumble around them after trying to save the world from Alduin. Why did she bother? She regretted her choice of fighting alongside Ulfric. Now she was tucked away, hidden from the outside world, unwilling to help any longer, but feeling like she should, as if she owed the world anymore of herself. “As time has gone on, I have just felt worse and worse and I internalized more and more.”

She stared at the popping wood in the hearth as Vilkas sat quietly holding his wife, thinking about what she told him. He completely understood how she felt as he too would have feelings such as hers periodically, but not as strong. Normally, he could brush them away. 

“I sometimes have these feelings too, like I should have stayed with the Companions, to help people more. In the end, Dani, we can’t help people forever. We aren’t perfect, we make mistakes, unable to see the future. We have our own lives to live and it is not selfish to do so. You have done enough for the people of Skyrim. The pull to help others is strong for me too, but I think at this point, the situation happening is beyond us, no matter how strong we are,” Vilkas explained.

“You feel this way too sometimes?” she asked, suddenly looking up at him.

“Yes, my love. I think after what you and I have been through, it is normal to feel this...uselessness, as you put it. Is that all there is? Is that all that is bothering you?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Vilkas chuckled, though she wasn’t joking and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, it is enough. What I mean is, have you told me everything or is there more?”

“I miss our girls,” she said. 

“I miss them too.”

“I wasn’t meant to be a farmer, Vil. I went from dragon hunter to weed puller. I feel...pathetic.”

“There is nothing pathetic about you. We chose this life to get away from the chaos and give our girls some stability. Personally, I’ve had enough of the violence, despite growing up as a warrior. I’m OK with this life. I just wish…”

Danya had been so wrapped up in her own pain, not wanting to hurt Vilkas, but forgetting that he probably had his own demons. If she had talked to him all along, maybe none of this would have happened. “What do you wish?”

It was Vilkas’ turn to watch the embers of the fire as he thought about what he wanted to say, not wanting to make her feel worse. “I wish we hadn’t lost touch with each other. I have missed you and I regret not trying harder to reach you. I...I feel like I’m failing you as a husband.”

Vilkas felt Danya snuggle her face into the side of his chest, feeling her body rack with sobs. He pulled her in tighter, feeling guilty for making her cry more. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

She looked up, her gray-blue eyes looking bluer against the redness of her eyes. “No! You should have. I...I should have never shut you out. None of this is your fault.”

Vilkas lifted her chin looking into her eyes. “We are in this together, Dani. Your pain is mine. My pain is yours. You are not alone. You are not useless. You are an amazing and strong and powerful woman. You are a dragon and I love you.” He reached down and pressed his lips to hers as she cried, but she returned his affections, tasting her salty tears.

The kiss was more chaste than passionate, but it was more than they had done longer than either could remember. It felt a bit awkward, almost like a first kiss. They both pushed through it as did their tongues, seeking, exploring. Part of Danya wanted to push away like she had so many times before that it had become nearly a habit, but she forced herself to return his love. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him or felt affection towards him, but it had become something she had gotten used to, afraid to take that step to renewing their relationship, fears of failing at that as well.

With an arm wrapped around her neck, Vilkas gently eased her down on the furs strewn about with the pillows. His stomach fluttered not only with desire, but nerves. Part of him was afraid she would run from him once more and he was going to do whatever it took to reconnect with his wife of twenty years. That and it had been a while since he had been intimate with his wife. It felt like they were starting all over again. He sat there staring at her, still beautiful, no longer crying. All he felt was adoration for her, even after all those years and her shutting him out, confident he would finally reach her and he did.

“I love you so much, Dani,” he said. 

All that served to do was to make her cry again, lip trembling, now filled with guilt for how she treated him. “I don’t know why. I’m not so sure I deserve it.”

“Of course you do, now more than ever. We are just going through a rough patch, that is all,” he told her, wiping more tears away. “We will get through this like we do everything else. There is a reason we have been married as long as we have, sweetheart.” 

Vilkas leaned down to kiss her once more, hoping to make love to his wife, giving her at least a moment of pleasure and happiness. He wasn’t naive to think this one talk and being intimate would fix everything, but it was a start, that she was talking and not pulling away was also telling.

Their tongues met once more as his hand traveled down her face, neck, arm to her breast. He was careful, not sure how she would react, but she still didn’t push him away, so he kept on with his touches, trying to remember his wife’s body, her curves, the shape of her breasts. A hand slipped under Danya’s tunic, pushing up her breast band as he kissed her neck. She wasn’t as responsive as he would like, not as she used to be, but he was confident she would warm up.

“I want you, my love,” he whispered in her ear.

Danya didn’t respond, but he could feel her hands slink up his back, finally touching him, her way of telling him it was OK, that he could have her. Feeling encouraged, Vilkas slid her tunic up, exposing her breast. They weren’t as pert as they used to be, but they were still full and beautiful. He dragged a gentle tongue over her nipple, feeling it harden and hearing her breath hitch to the sensation. A little nibble and he moved on to her other breast. It was something he could do for hours, he loved them so much. 

Suddenly, Danya sat up and pulled her tunic over her head and unraveled her breast band, giving her husband more access to her flesh. She couldn’t help but smile hearing him growl at her nudity, seeing her chest for the first time in so very long. His hands were clammy touching her, but she didn’t mind, feeling nervous herself as they got used to each other once more. The pleasurable sensation traveling between her legs with each flick of the tongue on her nipples sent waves of memories from their countless lovemaking adventures. Danya was beginning to wonder if she would ever feel that wonderful heat building up again, if she even could.

As Vilkas was attending to her breasts, Danya pulled off his tunic exposing scars he had accumulated over the long years, knowing how he got each and every one as she trailed fingers across his skin, feeling the bumpy flesh. They were a reminder that he had been at her side as long as she had known him, vowing to first protect the Dragonborn, then his lover, then his wife. How could she ever believe he wouldn’t understand or that he would not want her any longer after everything they had been through.

Surprise filled Vilkas as his wife pushed him onto his back as she straddled him, pleased she was more eager and willing in their intimacies, responding to him. Leaning down, Danya pressed her lips to his once more, this time with more heated passion, remembering the feel of his lips to hers. She curled her fingers in his thick, coarse hair, moving her lips down his throat. There was a sudden desire to taste him, suck him as she inhaled his musk. She always loved his smell, she thought as she moved down his body with her kisses and licks, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

Vilkas hissed when she nibbled a bit too hard on a nipple, but it was pleasurable, running fingers through her long hair. A smile was planted on his face not just from sexual excitement, but the fact she was more responsive than he expected her to be. Dayna started to undress him and he helped her with the process, eager to feel himself inside of her. Then he watched her stand and remove the rest of her clothes. A moan escaped his lips seeing his wife naked before him, feeling the hardness build stronger than before, twitching in anticipation. Instead of sliding him into her as he was expected, she grasped him with a firm hand and trailed a long lick with her tongue. Legs spread to give her more access, he tangled fingers in her hair as she continued to caress his hardness with her mouth. It had been so long since he felt her mouth upon him, he could scarcely remember the sensation, but it all came back to him as she continued sucking and licking. It was so much better than his hand, which had become routine for the past couple of years. 

Danya’s tongue gilded up and over and down again, making sure to pause at his sensitive tip. She was tentative at first, afraid she would do it all wrong, nearly forgetting how to suck her husband. She also nearly forgot how much she used to enjoy pleasuring Vilkas, feeling the heat build up, his hardness pulsing on her hand as she moved it in conjunction with her mouth. She could hear his breathing become more erratic as he grew close to his build up and inevitable explosion of pleasure, but before he could do so, he lifted her head and pulled her to him.

“No, I need to be inside you. I miss being inside you,” he informed her breathlessly.

Instead of sliding inside of her, Vilkas pulled her up to straddle his face, inhaling her sex, a smell he missed entirely too much. Danya braced her arms on his chair for balance as he spread her folds and ran a tongue through her wetness. It was pure reflex that she gyrated into his mouth, her breathing accelerating in tandem with her heart. Her body shuddered as his firm yet soft tongue ran over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Oh it had been so long since she felt such a sensation. She barely even touched herself anymore, let alone allow Vilkas to do it. The build up centering around her core was fast, trying to pull away from his mouth, wanting him inside her, afraid if she exploded it would feel unfinished. It was a sensation she had before after prolonged misuse of her bud. Once it received attention again, it was weak and disappointing, not wanting Vilkas to believe he was at fault for such a pathetic orgasm. But Vilkas held firm, not letting her go as he dug in deeper, the tip of his tongue focused solely on her nerves. As predicted, it was a small orgasm, feeling herself flush in the face in embarrassment. 

Sliding back down, Danya looked at her husband sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” she said by way of explanation. “I’m sorry it was so weak. It wasn’t you, just…”   


“Shhh, stop. We can’t expect heart-stopping sex all the time. Did you at least enjoy it?”

Danya nodded that she did.

“Then it was worth it.” 

Kissing him, she could taste herself on his lips as their hands explored their bodies. “Please,” she panted in his ear, a plea to have him inside of her. Vilkas didn’t need to be told twice as he slipped inside her slick core, both of them moaning at the feeling. Danya was tight with misuse, and he had to work slowly the deeper he went until he pushed all the way through. His movements were slow, just enjoying the feel of her wrapped around him, so warm and wet. The sensation was emotionally overwhelming for him, missing her touch, the feel of her body, wondering if he would ever make love to his wife again, if she would let him. Placing his face in her neck, he rolled his hips as her fingers dug in his hair, legs wrapped around his waist. By the gods he loved this woman, missing his wife so much, hating to see her in pain, he nearly wept. 

Forehead to forehead, the heat built up as he moved faster. He didn’t want it over too soon, but it had been so long and after her attentions with her wonderful mouth, he could barely contain himself. “It’s OK, let it go,” he heard her whisper and let go he did, exploding in her, thrusts slowing down as he became spent. Vilkas softened inside of her, but didn’t yet want to depart from her as if she would somehow float away if he did, feeling soft and tender fingers trailing up and down his scared back. Those soft touches that conveyed love, though no words were spoken.

Reluctantly pulling out, he fell to the side and pulled her into him, her back pressed up against him as he ran a thumb over her breast, kissing the back of her head which was lying on his other arm. He could feel warm tears pool on his skin and he pulled her in tighter to him. “Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s OK. We will get through this.”

Danya nodded on his arm. “I’m so sorry I shut you out, Vil. I was blind in my depression.” Her depression wasn’t gone, but it was abated for now knowing how much her husband loved her. Feeling close to him once more, making love reminded her of that, unsure how she could forget how supportive he was, that he had always been at her side through the worst of it.

“It’s OK,” he said again. “Just talk to me. Never forget I’m always here for you. I will listen because I love you.”

“I promise,” she said. “I love you too.”

“Now about those hot springs…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
